Falling For You
by NeverTrustADuck
Summary: At the beginning of time there was only God and His angels in Heaven. He loved them all equally, and they loved him the most. When two of His most beloved angels found each other, He made them learn the meaning of 'falling for someone'... full s inside
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, this is my new little pet project. I don't know how far I will go with this, but it will be a longer project of maybe 10-20 chapters, depending on chapter length… as well as what kind of response I get from you guys – of course. So, below is the full summery since FF only allows you so many characters in the official summery. After that, we're off on our adventure.

**Full summery:** At the beginning of time there was only God and His angels in Heaven. He loved them all equally, and they loved him the most. When two of His most beloved angels found each other, He made them learn the meaning of 'falling for someone'. One, He locked away from the eyes of the others, to keep for himself. The other, He sent to walk the earth, always remembering, always being reminded of his treacherous actions. Only Armageddon would be his saving grace.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_They are standing in the shadow, hidden from view. It is warm and bright and they are standing close together. So close he can feel the heat coming off other creature's bare chest. _

"_I love you." _

_It is the first time he says it out loud. He has known it forever, and the creature knows, but the words had never left his mouth. _

"_And I you, Blaine," the beautiful being in front of him answers. He turns his bluegreen eyes so that Blaine can see them. The pure love and utter adoration that fills them almost overwhelms him, but he cannot look away. He knows he will never be able to look away. _

_A warm and soft hand is placed on his cheek and he leans into the touch, bringing his own hand up to hold the other hand in place. _

_The being leans in and lets his sweet lips softly touch Blaine's. They don't stay for long, but it is a promise of something more, something so much more._

_Blaine is as happy as he has ever been, just like he always is when they are together. It does not matter what they do or do not do, as long as they are by each other's sides, they will always be happy – content with existence. _

_Suddenly the light grows dim, and they are being pulled apart by a massive force. He sees the one he loves with all his being, being locked behind bars deep within the darkest clouds. The once bright bluegreen eyes that held so much love, now hold so much pain that Blaine wants to look away. But he cannot do so. He will never be able to look away. _

_Then he falls, and without his wings he cannot catch himself._

As Blaine's eyes flutter open he has trouble remembering where he is. He lies on his stomach in an unfamiliar bed. The mattress is too hard, but he feels the soft, thin sheets around him, wrapping his body in its cool embrace. The pillow is nice, big and soft, under his head, and as his eyes gazes out over the room he sees it bathing in the early morning light.

His mind goes back to the dream; Blaine thinks it's out of habit. It's always the same dream; their last moments together replayed and relived. It took him years to realize that it was not going away, that it was a part of the punishment to constantly be reminded of what he had lost – what he never could have again.

He focuses on the now, he needs to figure out where he is and how to get home before it starts. The room is unfamiliar, with unfamiliar things filling it. As he studies his surroundings further he notices the many textbooks on marketing strategies, the dotted papers strewn on the cluttered desk and the dirty coffee mugs that appears in any and all places.

Blaine sighs. He remembers the blond economics student that looked just a _little_ like the reason he was here. He remembers all the alcohol he consumed to be able to see the blond in _just the right light_ to make himself think that it _might_ be him. But he knew he wasn't. Even if the alcohol made him see what he wanted to see, touch, what he wanted to touch – even if in reality it was miles above him, hauntingly out of his reach – the morning after always stuck him like a sledgehammer.

You could call it a massive hangover if you wanted, only it didn't affect your body. If the alcohol made your mind see things, the loss of the effect of it ripped your soul to pieces.

That's why Blaine never _stays_. On days like these he's always out before the sun's first rays hit whatever room he's in. He's out before he falls again. Before he can feel the devastating loss tear pieces of his soul from his body – slowly and steadily, like a practiced torturer.

He tried to fight it, in the beginning. After that first time, when his loss was still so fresh, and he tried to adapt the human way of dealing with sorrow, he had wanted to die. At first, when he saw him standing at the other side of the long hut, where a moment ago another man had stood, he was excited. Could their Father really had changed his mind so quickly?

That night was the last night he was happy, and it was a lie.

The morning brought with it the truth – and the truth had never hurt so much. Blaine felt the searing pain of being torn apart, limb by limb, accompanied with the stabbing truth that he had not gone to bed with the one he loved, but with a human man of flesh and blood.

The guilt nagged at him, and that betrayal felt far worse than the one their Father accused them of.

Time passed and it happened again. This time he searched for it. He searched for the oblivion he could pretend he was in while feeling his lover's body next to his. The physical pain, the guilt that would not be tamed and the constant grief seemed a fair price to pay for half a night of semi-happiness.

He had learned to fool himself better. He told himself it was okay, for it was the only way to get a moment of peace in an existence he was doomed to inhabit until the End of Days. Or possibly longer, since judgment had already been passed on him millennia ago, and immortality had that fine print that said 'living forever means you cannot die – sucker'.

Blaine sighs again in a lame attempt to push the pain he know is coming to a later time.

_Now is not the time to crawl into a ball and cry his name until the effect wears off._

He gently pushes the soft sheets off his naked body and sets his bare feet on the wooden floor. He slowly sits up, before standing up without making the mattress move enough to wake the blond man still sleeping on it.

He's walking slowly towards the hallway, picking up his scattered clothes on his way there. A slow, cold breeze caresses his body as he walks by a poorly shut window. He stops to pull on his boxers and jeans; the belt shakes in his hands when he tries to buckle it. He leaves it for later and picks up the white t-shirt he wore the night before and slips it over his head. His hands seem unable to grip the hem of the shirt to pull it down properly.

He doesn't have much time now, twenty minutes, tops.

He finds his shoes, but doesn't bother looking for the socks. Trying to lace up Chucks while shaking like a leaf during a late summer storm is something Blaine doesn't have the time for. He needs to get out now.

He doesn't look back to the sleeping figure on the bed – it's not _him_, just a vessel anyway – as he crosses the rest of the apartment. The fragile looking door makes an unnecessarily loud squeaking noise that Blaine fears will wake the blond. It doesn't.

He walks down the old and dirty staircase and out of the building. It's still early, but humans are filling up the busy New York streets as he makes his way to the small apartment he holds.

It's not a smooth walk as his knees are starting to give in and he becomes unable to avoid stepping on his own shoelaces. The sun is rising higher in the sky and the bright light burns cold on the exposed flesh on his arms, and stings his sensitive eyes.

He should not have stayed. Why did he stay?

Taking a cab is out of the question, and so is getting on the subway, so he has to walk. It's not that far of a walk, only a few blocks east and another few north. He'd be home soon. Then he'd give in.

Blaine staggers along, trying not to bump into too many humans. The will only think he's drunk, or perhaps that he's coming down from a high, if they get to glimpse the pain that is so obvious in his eyes. The fact that he still hasn't managed to buckle his belt or pull his shirt down properly probably doesn't help.

Walking into the familiar building holding his apartment, he's sweating like he has a deadly fever and his body is aching with every move it makes. His feet can barely carry him anymore but he needs to climb the eight stories to his floor because standing in an elevator when in this much pain is _not_ an option.

The climb is slow, agonizingly slow, and he knows he needs to move faster.

Just as he reaches the third floor the first assault comes. It's a stabbing pain within him that burns cold once it hit. His knees buckle and he falls to the brown and filthy carpeted floor.

Somehow he keeps himself from screaming. He knows the pain will not go away, that it will not lessen only get stronger, more intense. And he knows that he needs to keep moving.

He makes it to the seventh floor before the next one. This is more intense, ripping at him until he's lying on the floor, shaking violently. Tears prickle his eyes and a small whimper escapes his tightly shut lips.

_Come on, one more floor_, he tells himself, _then you can scream as much as you want_.

With the last of his strength he pushes himself up the last flight of stairs and to the door that leads to his apartment.

He has to greatly concentrate to get the key into the keyhole, but manages just as he gets another hit. He falls against the door, grabbing at it in a failed attempt to hold himself upright. The tears are falling freely now, as his memories start to take physical form. He knows he needs to get inside the soundproof walls before they hit. He won't be able to hold anything in when they go to town on his heart and soul.

It feels like forever, the movement of his hand from where it lay in his lap to the bronze key stuck in the keyhole. He finally gets there and manages to turn the key and push the door open. He crawls in and shuts the door behind him. Leaning against it, he lets it come.

"…Kurt…" he whispers just before dull claws start to slowly scratch at his heart.

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><p><strong>AN:** So… that was chapter one… What'd you think? Please R&R and let me know what you think and if this is something I should consider continuing.

Thanks for reading!

xx


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Okay, so chapter two is done! It's a bit shorter, but I wanted to post it tonight and I put Blaine through a lot of unpleasantries in the last chapter, so the least I could do was to cut down his suffering in this one. This chapter will hopefully clear some things up for you and give you more of a back-story to what is going on.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

The city is covered in a cool late spring night when the stabbing and clawing, the ripping and tearing stops. The shaking is still there, making getting up from his spot by the door nearly impossible. He probably shouldn't move yet, but he can feel the sweat rolling down his neck and into his soaked t-shirt. He needs a shower, badly.

So he gets up, pushing the thoughts of Kurt – it hurts to think his name, so he avoids it – to the back of his mind once more, and stumbles into the small, but clean, bathroom.

He takes his time, letting the warm water rinse away the sweat and dried tears from his face and body. He lets a few more salty drops fall from his eyes when his one love's face flashes before his eyes.

After another ten minutes he's had enough of the warm water spraying his back, not doing a thing to ease his still aching muscles. Nothing but time will settle that ache, and he knows it. He turns off the water and reaches for a towel.

After drying off, he stands a while in front of the bathroom mirror. The towel is wrapped around his waist, and apart from his wet hair he looks like he always has. He looks exactly the same as when he was _up there_. There is nothing on him that can give away the misery of the last few millennia, or even the previous day. There's no bruising, though his body feel like it's been through one of those machines that crumples up cars into little metal cubes. There's not even bags under his deep hazel eyes.

The only thing that will give him away is the pained look in his eyes. It has been his constant companion since he fell. Since he was kicked out of Heaven for loving the wrong being.

_No, the _right_ being_, he tells himself and a small fire becomes visible in his eyes. It dies quickly – there is nothing to keep it alive.

Blaine sighs and leaves the steam-filled comforts of the bathroom and enters the cool bedroom. His muscles have stopped shaking – almost.

He knows he should eat something, but his stomach turns at the thought of food. Human food is not that bad, and his body is able to break it down and use it for fuel, but he's never hungry after a day like the one he just had. He goes to the kitchen anyway.

Hours later, he looks out over the dark city and new tears fill his eyes. He lets them come. He lets them roll from his eyes and over his cheeks, to finally fall to their demise from his jaw line.

He can't sleep, so he sits on his bed, his bare feet on the floor, and looks out over the sleeping city. He has changed out of the towel – it still reminds him too much of his former life – to a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an ordinary t-shirt. His hair has dried long ago and is now curling away at the top of his head.

Kurt would always run his fingers through his hair when it was like this. He had always called it 'wild' and Blaine would take that opportunity to point out that Kurt's fingers were the only thing that could tame it. Then they'd smile at each other and…

_No, bad train of thought_. New tears burned in his eyes.

The memories were all so fresh after having assaulted him for hours. It was like they took their time to draw back to the iron cage he'd built for them.

He knows he won't be able to sleep until they're back in that cage and it's too risky to try. He knows he will only relive them all, not just the one which always visits him, but _all of them_.

He doesn't move until he sees the first rays of light hit the skyscrapers in the east. They paint the sky a dull pink that mixes in with the dim blue and the newly awakened yellow. It's beautiful, but he remembers what it looked like from _up there_.

The memories are persistent this time, they won't settle back into their cage.

"So no sleep for Blaine," he mutters to himself.

It has happened a few times before, when he's been weak and not been able to withstand the onslaught. When he experienced it the first time he'd gone to sleep after sitting trough the worst of it. He'd been exhausted after the intense physical pain and hadn't considered the consequences. He'd learned his lesson.

They persisted for a couple of days, wearing him out but never breaking him.

_What if I let them break me?_

"No, I won't let them. I can't do that to him."

Somehow he still believes there's a way. A way to save Kurt. After a few millennia you'd think he'd given up on the impossible task of breaking into Heaven and steal back his beloved angel from His well-guarded dwellings.

"I wonder if you can see me now, my love." It's not for the first time he wonders that, and he doubts it will be the last.

Blaine stays in his apartment throughout that day. At one point he makes a half-hearted attempt to make an omelet, adding some thinly sliced ham and the last of the bell pepper to the egg mix. He over-salts it and ends up throwing it out.

He stands by the kitchen window for a while, looking at the humans rushing home from a busy day at work. He sees a young couple walking hand in hand on the sidewalk. There's a brisk wind rustling the treetops nearby and the girl snuggles up to the boy, who wraps his arms tightly and protectively around her.

"_Come, walk with me, my love."_

_Blaine turns around and he is no longer in the small apartment in 21__st__ century New York. He is back in the meadow they used to claim as their own, back when the world was new. He can see the big oak tree, planted at the Creation, which held their names – and so many of their secrets._

_He cannot see him, but he can feel him close. He turns again, and he comes into view. He looks brilliant in the bright, warm sun. His chest is bare and defined, and Blaine can glimpse the last of his cloud-white wings as they are being pulled into his tall, lean body. His skin is usually a soft creamy white, but in this light it looks almost golden. _

"_You are so beautiful," he whispers in the wind. _

_The angel, _his_ angel, turns around, and those bluegreen eyes that Blaine cannot look into long enough are looking back at him. They glimmer like some long lost precious stone when the sun touches them and the angel holds out a delicate hand for him to take. _

_He takes a couple of steps, and he can feel the soft grass under the balls of his feet and in between his toes. He takes a couple more and is then able to reach his lover's outstretched hand. It is soft to the touch, just like he remembers. _

"_Come, my angel," his angel says and pulls him slightly forward, "I want to show you something." _

"_Show me what?" Blaine knows this script._

"_You will see," he laughs._

_They walk up to the shadow of the tree, before they stop. _

"_Do you see anything?" his angel asks, the nervousness that is clear in his eyes sips into his voice. _

_Blaine surveys the bark of the tree for the names he knows have been carved in there. When he sees them in their usual place the emotions from the day sweep over him._

"_Kurt…" he breathes, and he feels the familiar prickle of tears in his eyes. _

"_I do not wish to hide it. I want to shout it from the highest cloud, but I thought this a more appropriate gesture." _

_Blaine wants to tell him, that no, they should be more careful, that Father will not be happy to hear of their growing love. That it has grown too big, that they are too important to each other now. But it is a waste of breath and he knows that. Instead he takes a step towards Kurt and brings him into his arms. _

_They stay like that for a while, close together watching their names etched into the oldest tree on earth. _

"_I miss you so much…" Blaine whispers, but it falls to deaf ears. _

"_Blaine…?" Kurt says and looks down on him. _

"_Yes."_

"_I do not ever want to be apart from you. I think it would actually kill me."_

_A lump forms in Blaine's throat and his body tenses. He swallows hard and chokes out, "I will love you forever, my dearest angel. No matter where you or I go." _

"_No, silly," Kurt laughs, and Blaine is again reminded that his angel will not hear what he says, only what he once said, when they were actually here. He knows it, but it breaks his heart a little, nonetheless. _

The air shifts and he's back in the small apartment he refuses to call home. The night has rolled in, bringing with it strong winds and a heavy rain. Blaine can't tell if it's still the same night he observed the beginning to or if he was caught in the memory for longer. Either way, fresh tears are staining his cheeks.

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><p><strong>AN: **Okay, so I know there's not nearly enough Kurt in this story so far… but don't worry, he'll be there soon. And I swear, things will start happening soon… like, really soon. Promise.

Please let me know what you think – thank you DeppleICk, Totallystarstruck and AnnielovesKlaine for your lovely reviews! – remember, reviews are cookies! …and I _love_ cookies :D

xx


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